The History of the Hunger Games Rewrite
by candyapple2259
Summary: Where did the idea of the Hunger Games come from? Young annelise is witnessing the original Hunger Games in the year 2020. *REWRITE*
1. Chapter 1

_To whom it may concern,_

_The U.S. government has declared that each state will send in 2 tributes, 1 male and 1 female between the ages of 12-18, to the Hunger Games. The tributes will be selected by a lottery held at the state capitol on June 1s, 2020. Each name will be entered once; volunteers to take the place of a tribute will be allowed._

_Every one is required to attend. _

_The tributes selected will be taken to Washington D.C. into an arena to fight to the death. The arena will vary. If the two tributes from the same state are the last alive, they will be declared winners. If there fellow tribute should die, the remaining tribute can still win. _

_The winner will receive a life of ease back home with fame and fortune._

_Losing will mean certain death. _

_The games will occur once a year on June 1__st__, and everyone is required to watch the games. They can last anywhere from days, to weeks. _

_Attached is a form you are required to fill out, registering all children between ages 12-18. It must be mailed to your state capitol by May 15__th__._

_Let the games begin._

I stare down at the letter, my mouth hanging open in shock. Questions of why bounce around in my head, but I already know the answers to why this is being put in place. One word: Uprisings. What it has to do with the ages they've selected to participate in, I'm not sure. I get it, they want to punish people for the uprisings, but why are they punishing the kids? It's the adults who have been doing this!

Pushing the blame aside, I immediately think about my younger siblings. My sister is twelve and my brother is fourteen. How are they going to take this news? Even more; what would happen if one of them were picked. I wouldn't let Becca go; I would volunteer for her for sure, but I wouldn't be able to stop Daniel from going.

Next thing I do is panic. I run inside my house and take a few calming breaths before I call everyone into the kitchen. Once everyone is there, we sit down at the table and they all look at me questioningly. I read the letter out loud, watching their expressions. My mother's green eyes fill with tears while Becca and Daniel look absolutely mortified. My father, however, doesn't look surprised. Like he already knew this. Was it on the news or something?

Once I finish the letter, I lay it down on the table. No one says anything as we absorb the information. The silence is broken though by my mother's hysteric sobs. She grabs on to Becca who is closest to her and wraps her in a bone crushing hug, crying into Becca's brown hair. I look at dad to see what he's thinking, but he just pats mom's back sympathetically.

I wonder what he's thinking. He didn't seem at all surprised, only a small hint of anger in his brown eyes. He always tells me that eyes are the windows to the soul; that you can read a person's emotions just by looking into them.

"Look, this sucks. But we need to be ready. I know the chances of one of us being chosen is pretty low, but I want to be prepared. Anyone up for a little training montage?" I say, trying to relieve the grief in the room. No one smiles though, but dad nods.

"It's a good idea. You guys have two months until this. I want you guys to be prepared," dad says. I just look at him, wondering how he's taking this so easily. We look just alike- my dad and I- along with Daniel and Becca. Same dark brown hair, chocolate brown eyes. While Becca was blessed with our mother's naturally tanned skin, me and Daniel got our father's fair skin.

We all discuss exactly what we should do, and I suggest getting some books from the library on survival and stuff. Daniel is all for weapons training, saying he knows a few people who have some things we could borrow. Mother is going to create a diet plan for us and help us with our cardio, while dad helps us work on strength. All this talk makes mother cry even harder. I go over to sooth her, prying Becca out of her arms since she looks like she's about to be crushed to death.

"Mom, it's ok. We need you to stay strong. There isn't any use getting so upset; we need you to be the brave one right now," I soothe. After some time she stops crying and wipes the stray tears away.

"You're right, I'm sorry. Thank you. I guess I'm no help blubbering like a baby." I pat her on the back and she gives me a sad smile.

"Ok, I'm going to go change real quick," I tell dad, going up the stairs. I switch out of my pajamas and grab a sweatshirt and jeans. Pulling my dark brown hair up into a ponytail, I sigh. Just yesterday I didn't have a worry in the world. Now here I am preparing and training because I could possibly be forced into a fight for my life. Not what I expected when I woke up this morning.

"Ready," I say once I hit the bottom step. Dad grabs the keys to his truck and Daniel and I follow him out while Becca stays with mom to help her. No one says anything on the ride there, all absorb in our own thoughts. All I'm doing is worrying. Not for myself, but for my brother and sister.

I'm even worried about my best friend Kaitlynn. What would happen if she got picked? I like to think that if she got picked I would volunteer, but truth is, I probably wouldn't. Not because I don't love her or anything, just because it's a pretty extreme thing to do, and I wouldn't expect her to do it for me. Becca is a different story though. And Daniel; what's going to happen if he got picked? I couldn't take his place. Just the thought of either of their names being called makes me sick to my stomach so I turn my thoughts elsewhere. Besides; there are thousands of names that could be chosen, giving us pretty good odds.


	2. Chapter 2

As we enter the library, I find it filled with more people than usual. As I start skimming the shelves, someone catches my eye.

"Kaitlynn!" I say. She looks up from the book in her hand and waves at me. She has on the same sad smile I've seen a lot of today. I walk over to her and look at the book she has in her hand. On the cover, it reads _Survivor's Guide to the Wilderness: Edible Plants._

"Where'd you find that?" I ask her.

"Over on those shelves," she says, pointing behind me, "But you better hurry, everyone's trying to get their hands on some since we got the letters. There were only about ten copies of this one. If you can't get one you can borrow it sometime ok?" she says. I smile and thank her as she goes to check out her books.

I walk over to the shelves she pointed to and begin grabbing useful looking books. I find one on building your own fires and another called _Surviving With What the Earth Gives You,_ and then I find a copy of the book Kaitlynn had. Last one too.

I go over to Daniel and dad who have both found some useful books as well. Daniel found some on knot tying, camouflaging, and hunting. Dad has two about weaponry and one on workouts. We decide we have enough and go to check-out.

"Good luck kids," the librarian says as we start to walk out. I thank her and we leave to go home.

When we arrive home, mother has all of our plans ready. She has given us each 2 hours a day to work on different areas. First, I will do cardio with mother, then strength with dad, then I have 2 hours to read the books.

After all the training, mother will prepare our food which she based on our weight, height, age, and amount of exercise we do. Then we have the rest of the day to practice with a different weapon each day. I decide I want to work with knives first when we start tomorrow.

The next three months are brutal. Mother and father become more like drill sergeants than parents. Every waking minute is spent doing something related to these games. Whether its doing push-ups, running, being asked questions about what we would do in a certain situation, or information just being drilled into our heads, we can't get a break. I'm grateful though, my body and mind have never been stronger or healthier.

We finish the training schedule mother planned a week before the lottery is to be held. Mother and father also want to give us a test that will test what we have learnt over the past three months. There will be written parts as well as physical tests. If we don't pass it, they are going to make us train extra hard until June 1st., but I think we all have it down pat.

I have definitely noticed the muscle we all gained, the extra pounds we shed. We can all run a full mile in 4 minutes and have become something of a wiz with fire and hunting. We all learned how to set snares, throw knives, axes, swords, shoot guns, a bow and arrow, and even some hand-to-hand combat techniques. Kaitlynn even came and trained with us a few times, and she shared her knowledge on edible plants, which sadly we all lacked to pay attention to the first few weeks of training.

For the first time, a flicker of hope came up that if one of us had to go in, we could make it. Then, I remember that we might have to face 98 other tributes, who have probably been training as well. My hope dies thinking of all the other kids. Some could have been already well prepared and are just going to add on. Some are just going to be naturally stronger or more cunning. It takes more than brute strength to win, you have to have brains too, which a lot of kids are already well more advanced than myself in.

The only thing I can really hope for is sheer luck.

"Annelise, it's time to get up," my dad informs me from the other side of my door. Ever since training started I have felt more energetic, so waking up in the mornings isn't as horrible as it used to be. I'm not really a morning person.

I get up out of bed and open the door. "I'm just going to take a quick shower then I'll be down." He nods and walks down the hall while I grab clothes to change into.

While in the shower, I run through everything I've learned these three months. Its a lot of information to think about, but I know everything I should. I get out of the shower and change quickly, pulling my wet hair into my usual ponytail and securing it with a black headband.

Downstairs in the dining room, mother has our breakfast prepared. Getting used to the controlled portions and health foods was a hard task at first, but I soon adjusted and now I'm glad I did. We eat in silence, and by the calculating looks on Becca and Daniel's faces, I know they're mentally preparing as well. When we're done, dad comes in with a stack of paper and some pencils. Time for the written portion of the tests.

"You guys will do great, good luck. Just remember everything we've done and think about each question thoroughly," he recommends.

He hands us the papers and we begin. The first 20 questions are a snap, and I fly through them. The next 15 are a little more difficult, but I think I did pretty well. Daniel and Becca share a relieved look so they must have done well also.

After we finish the written test, we do the physical tests. First is hand-to-hand combat. Father takes turns with us. Daniel and I take him down easily, but Becca has to try twice before she gets him down.

After that we do weapons. I find I'm pretty good with a sword. Daniel is a wiz with knives and Becca can take down anything from at least 40 yards away with a spear.

Then, we do knot tying, fire starting, edible plants, setting snares, and tree climbing. Becca is like a squirrel, climbing to the thinnest of branches quickly. Daniel and I can climb, but not as high due to our weight. I can start a fire in under 15 minutes, and Daniel and Becca take at least 30 to start it. Daniel can set snares with his eyes closed. Becca and I are pretty nifty with snares as well, but its clear that Daniel dominates that area. Daniel, Becca and I all fly through the edible plants without a hitch. We all are timed on our 2 mile run. All three of us zoom through in 8 minutes.

By the time its all over, I feel worn out. I sit down to catch my breath and let my aching muscles relax. Normally its all so easy, but we haven't done everything at once before. Daniel and Becca join me and we all end up laying on our backs in the grass, staring up at the sky.

"Well kiddos, I can safely say you passed this part," dad says, "Your mother should be done grading your written tests soon. I'll tell you guys what you need improvement on- if any- and what your strategy should be if you're chosen." He winces slightly at the thought of one of us being picked.

I sigh. My thoughts drift away as I remember a time, not too long ago at all, when we were a peaceful country. But then, in 2015, new laws were put in place. Everyone was furious, saying it took away our rights as Americans. Shortly after, in 2017, groups from different states started talks of rebellion. Two years later, the uprisings started in every state.

The government responded back, executing all the rebels. Now they are trying to keep us under control by forcing 100 teens to fight each other. Well, message received. No one has even said the word rebellion since then. I just wonder if these games will ever stop and what will happen many years from now. I hope the people who come after us can live in peace.

Just then, mom comes out of the house with the papers in hand, breaking me from my thoughts. She reminds me of a school teacher, the way she carries the papers and the pen stuck behind her ear.

"Well done! You all passed with flying colors!" she appraises. She beams at us and hands dad the papers to show him. I feel giddy with excitement that I did well and that spark of always short-lived hope comes back. I feel more confident now though, knowing my parents have confidence in us as well.


	3. Chapter 3

This is it. This is the day we have been preparing for since we got the letter. Everyone is nicknaming the lottery "The Reaping."

Everyone is expected to dress nicely, and I have on a deep purple dress that stops at my knees, black sandals and my hair is in a curly bun with a few loose strands hanging down. Becca looks like a little pixie with a blue dress. Her hair is tied up with a matching blue ribbon. Daniel is in a simple red flannel shirt and dress pants. He refused to put on anything fancy, claiming that what he was wearing was good enough. Ah yes, the little rebel of the family.

We all hop into the truck and start our journey to Frankfort, Kentucky. It is about an hour and a half drive from our home, and all traffic is heading to the same place.

When we finally arrive, father parks the truck and we head to the capitol building slowly. A stage has been built in front of the building and two chairs sit in the middle, with a microphone in front of them. Two glass balls stand on each side of the stage filled with thousands of slips of paper. One for the boys and one for the girls.

Some where in the girls, Becca Stague and Annelise Stague are written on them. In the boys, Daniel Stague. Just that thought alone already has me nervous.

There are 14 sections roped off for each age group and gender. The 18 year old males and females are the closest to the stage, while the 12 year old males and females are at the back. Everyone else surrounds the perimeter.

Everyone is silent, some are crying. I'm holding on to Becca's hand, while Daniel has her other one. I can tell she doesn't want to let go by the tight grip she has on my hand, but sadly the time to split up is upon us. I give her a tight hug, and do the same to Daniel. We reassure each other that everything will be ok and make our way to our sections.

I find myself next to Kaitlynn and she gives me a weak smile. I hug her and we stand with our arms linked together, waiting for the reaping to start. You can just feel the worry in the atmosphere, from the kids as well as the adults. I wonder what its like for the adults who have no kids and are only here because they have to be. And the younger kids who are not yet twelve, what are they thinking? All I know is I'm so nervous I might get sick.

The mayor of Frankfort claims one of the two chairs. An older lady, probably in her mid 40's steps onto the stage. She is wearing a black pencil skirt, with a white ruffled blouse. She has on black high heels and her blonde hair is in a tight bun on the back of her head.

"Welcome citizens of Kentucky. The time has come to select one male and one female to represent Kentucky in our first ever Hunger Games!" She says. Her voice is very high and nasally. It kind of irritates me the more she talks.

"My name is DeAnne Carter and I will be the tributes escort. Now I will turn it over to the mayor to explain how the games work and some other details."

The crowd gives a weak clap as the mayor steps in front of the microphone. He begins by telling how we ended up in the position we are in now, 'the uprisings that should have never happened and are a disgrace to this country', as he puts it. Then he lets us know how the games work.

"Two of you will be going to Washington D.C. into a vast outdoor arena that can be any type of terrain. The tributes elected will go through an opening ceremony, called 'The Parade of the Tributes.' After, you will train for three days will specialists in each area needed for survival. Tributes will have a private training session and will receive a score ranging from 1-12, with 12 being the highest, and 1 the lowest." He says.

"Each tribute will have a prep team and a stylist to prepare them for the parade and interviews, as well as the arena. After the tribute is selected, they will have an hour to say goodbye to friends and family." Oh great, we get our own personal stylists. It's something I dreamed of having when I was little, but it's not so glamorous anymore knowing they're going to prepare someone for slaughter. Hey, I guess you got to look good when you're dying.

Then he goes on to tell us about sponsors, and how each set of tributes will meet their mentor on the plane ride to D.C. I wonder who that poor fellow will be.

"Your mentor will be your lifeline in the arena. They control what sponsorship gifts get through to you and will help plan your strategy." He pauses for a moment and says, "Let the reaping begin, and may the odds be ever in your favor." With that he takes his seat and DeAnne steps back up to the microphone.

"Well, I couldn't have said it better myself. May the odds be ever in your favor! Now it's time to select the female tribute." She makes her way over to the girls' ball. No one moves, no one makes a sound. I don't even think anyone is breathing as they wait in anticipation for the name to be called. She reaches into it, stirring the names around. Then pulls out a slip of paper and makes her way back to the microphone.

The suspense is weighing down on everyone as they listen closely to the name about to be called. Kaitlynn and I hold onto each other tightly as she opens the folded paper and begins to read the name.


	4. Chapter 4

"Annelise Stague." With that, my heart drops to my stomach. I start feeling slightly disoriented and Kaitlynn's grip tightens even more as I start to sway. I look over to her and she is starting to cry, which only makes me want to cry too. But I can't. I step out from the cluster of sixteen-year-olds and start walking to the stage, taking slow shaky steps.

I hear two cries for my name somewhere from the crowd; one male and one female. Daniel and Becca come from their own section and grab on to me as I'm walking. I stop and embrace them, holding tightly. We stay holding on to each other for an undetermined amount of time. DeAnne speaks, breaking us from our moment.

"Annelise, please make your way onto the stage."

I don't want to let go but I know I must. Becca tugs on my dress and whispers to me, "Can I volunteer for you?" I look at her like she's grown a second head, but give her a stern look.

'No' I mouth to her as two policemen grab my arms and lead me to the stage. I look out into the crowd and try to control my emotions. I feel like crying, but Becca's ridiculous question plays and I'm able to subdue the sadness for now. I take a few calming breaths as DeAnne makes her way to the boys' ball.

I chant 'Don't pick Daniel' in my mind the entire time it takes her to pull a slip out and walk back to the microphone. I know whoever's name is on that slip is going to be my ally, my life line, and the only person I can trust in the arena. I hold my breath as she unfolds the paper ever so slowly and reads the name out. I feel instantly better when the name does not belong to my brother.

The name it reads is Marcus Williams. A boy from the 17 year old group steps on stage. I hate to admit it, but he is quite handsome. He has tanned skin, and crystal blue eyes. His hair is short and light brown. He is about 5 inches taller than me, and obviously works out because he has a muscular build. He is wearing a green button-up shirt and khakis.

He hides his emotions really well because his expression is blank as he steps onto the stage. I glance over at him and he catches my eye, giving me a slight nod before he turns to face the crowd. I look down at my shoes as DeAnne says "Ladies and gentlemen, Kentucky's tributes, Annelise Stague and Marcus Williams!"

The crowd claps, more out of relief that they're safe than anything else. I spot my parents in the crowd as the national anthem plays. My mother's face is buried in my dad's shirt as he fights back his emotions. When the anthem ends, Marcus and I are taken into the capitol building where we will have our hour for visits. We are put in separate rooms and I sit on the plush red couch as I wait for the first visitors.

As expected, my family comes in first. Becca runs in and jumps on my lap, crying her eyes out. Daniel sits next to me. He always acts like a grown up, but now he acts Becca's age, clinging to me. I wrap my arms around both of them. Mother and father sit down in a chair across from us. Like Becca and Daniel with me, mom holds onto dad. I can tell she wants to cry but she's staying strong for me.

"Promise me one thing," I say. "No matter what happens on that screen, you will stay strong and live life like normal." This pushes my mom over the edge and she starts crying silently. I look at dad who is the only one not crying right now, and he has a hard look on his face.

"I know you can win, Annelise," Father says. "With that boy Marcus, you two can really win this." I think about this for a moment.

"98 other tributes will be in that arena with me and him. Odds are that they will be well prepared and just as strong. I'm gonna need luck on my side too."

He stares at me again. Becca has stopped crying now and looks up at me. She speaks in a timid voice, "Promise me you will never give up, that you won't go down without a fight and you will try your hardest to win." She is looking at me with her chocolate eyes that are full of sadness, but something else. I see hope in her eyes.

"I swear I will." I wrap her into a hug and kiss the top of her head. Daniel wipes his eyes and says, "Remember what we learned, and find out Marcus' skills. If anyone can win this, it's you. Except maybe me." He gives me a small grin and I can't help but let out a small laugh. Mother has come up from father's shirt and kisses my cheek.

"We all know you can do this. We have faith in your abilities. You are a special girl, Annelise." I give a faint smile and we all embrace as a police officer steps in letting us know our time is up. I wave to them as this may be the last time I ever see them. That thought makes me sad and I remind myself that I promised Becca I would be coming home.

Next in is Kaitlynn. She sits next to me and we immediately lock into a hug. I don't try to stay strong with her here, she knows me too well for that. I don't know how long we cry together, but soon enough she sits up and pulls something from her pocket.

"Here, I want you to have this," she says, placing something in the palm of my hand. It's a gold necklace with a pendant that hangs down. The stone on the pendant is a deep blue color. "I know you have seen me wear this. It was my grandma's and I want you to wear it. Plus, I think sapphire looks good on you." She smiles and I return it.

"Are you sure? It looks awfully expensive and seems important," I say.

"Don't worry. I know you'll be able to return it." I sigh and try to hand it back.

"I'm not so sure I'm coming back, Kaitlynn." She gasps and stands up in front of me, giving me a stern yet gentle slap on the cheek.

"You are coming home, Annelise! Don't talk like that! I've seen what you can do; you have the same chance as anyone, if not a better one!" Her voice is rising, so I grab her shoulders and push her back into her seat.

"Alright, calm down firecracker. I'll be coming home." She calms a bit and sits down.

"I know you will. Now I expect to see this on you in the… arena," she says, her voice cracking at the end. I nod and hug her one last time before another officer informs her her time is up. I have enough time for one more visitor and I wonder who it will be. I wouldn't expect anyone else besides who already came. I'm sort of a shy person and only have a handful of close friends, but they probably wanted to get out of here fast.

The door opens and a young girl- probably around Becca's age- steps in. She is wearing a white dress and resembles my fellow tribute, Marcus. Her Light brown hair is braided over her shoulder and secured with a gold bow. She comes in and takes a seat across from me.

"Hi Annelise, I'm Jane, Marcus' sister."

"Hi Jane, it's nice to meet you," I say, extending out my hand for her to shake. She does before she starts talking again.

"Look, I know you want to win, right? Well, I want you to help Marcus win too. You see, it's only him, our father and me. Dad hasn't been able to work for a while, so Marcus has been working to take care of us. We can't lose him, and I don't want to. He is my big brother. Promise me you will help him to win too." She says.

For someone her age, she talks like she is in her 30's. She probably had to mature pretty fast. Of course I was going to protect him, like I would hope he would do for me. If two could win, it makes more sense to. By the sounds of it, he is a survivor and strong-willed. That's exactly the one thing I couldn't bring into that arena. Real life experience.

"I promise. Both of us will be coming home."

She studies me for a minute and then says, "Good. And good luck." With that, she stands and walks out the door. I still have about 10 minutes left, and I decide now would be a good time to let out all my feelings.

I start crying into a pillow. Then anger takes over me. I start screaming and throwing the pillows around, cursing everyone and everything. After all my anger is out, I just feel numb. I stare up at the ceiling for the rest of my time, until the officer comes in and takes me to a car to go to the airport.

Marcus gets in the car to and neither of us says anything. I glance over at him, wondering if he knew his sister came to visit me. His face is still clean of emotions and I wonder what he's thinking about. He isn't looking in my direction, so my dad's whole 'eyes are a window to the soul' thing isn't going to work.

To break the silence I reach my hand over to him.

"Hi, I'm Annelise." He looks at me, then smiles slightly and shakes my hand.

"Marcus," he says simply. I smile back and remove my hand after a little longer contact than necessary. My attempt at breaking the silence is short-lived since we lapse back into it. I can feel Marcus glancing at me though.

The ride to the airport seems endless, for which I'm thankful. I don't want to leave my home just yet and to be honest I'm not a big fan of airplanes. Once on the airplane though I realize it's not like one. Its set up more like a train would be. Marcus and I are directed into a room with 2 couches and a table in the center. I'm guessing this is where we will meet our mentor.

Again, we sit in silence until the door opens. I make out the figure of a tall man before I can actually get a good look at his face. He steps in and my mouth drops open in shock.

My mentor will be my father.


	5. Chapter 5

For a moment, I'm utterly confused. What is he doing here? That confusion is overpowered by anger quickly, and I'm up on my feet and walking- no, stomping- towards my father.

"What are you doing here? Why didn't you tell me you were going to be a mentor?" I demand. With each word I get closer to him, practically yelling in his face by the end of the sentence. I realize who it is I am speaking to and back away. If there's one thing my dad taught me, it's to respect your elders.

"Sorry, but why didn't you tell me this?" I ask. It makes sense why he wasn't surprised about the news of the games now. They must have had the mentors informed ahead of everyone else. Why my father is one of them I will never know, nor do I want to know.

He gives me a stern smile and replies, "I don't see how it would have made a difference. Think of it like this, you have the upper hand now. I know what you can do, what strategy will be the best for you and your strengths and weaknesses." I take this in consideration for a moment. I guess it's true. If he already knows what I can do, that gives us more time to find out about Marcus' skills and ability and plan what to do in the arena.

"Ok, but I expect some pretty good gifts in the arena." I say with a smile, any anger gone from my system.

He lets out a laugh. "That's only if we can find someone who's willing to take you on."

Marcus is standing next to me now. He reaches out his hand to my father. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Stague."

My father reaches his hand out and they shake hands. "And you too." He replies back. It's time for us to eat lunch and we are directed to the dining area. They start us off with some warm buns and butter. Next, we have some steak with mashed potatoes and macaroni. We indulge into our meal and when we finish they bring out a triple chocolate cake. My mouth starts watering at all the chocolate, and just the sight of it makes me feel sick, but I ignore it. I know I should be eating healthy, but a girl needs her chocolate. I limit myself to one piece of cake though. After I finish with the cake I wipe my mouth with a napkin.

"Now let's get down to business." Father says. "Marcus, what skills do you have? Any weapons you're handy with?" Marcus nods.

"I'm a pretty good shot with a gun. And not too bad with knives either."

"How fast can you run?" Father asks.

"I can do a mile in a little over 5 minutes. I'm really good with edible plants too." He says.

Father seems pleased. "Well, you two are going to have to work together in that arena if you want to make it out alive. I would recommend that you find other tributes that have valuable skills, but you can trust. Annelise, I know you're a pretty good judge of character, so trust your gut when choosing allies."

I nod and look at Marcus, "I'll run my pickings by you before we make any decisions."

"And I will too." He says, giving me a small grin. I nod and we all go into the TV room to watch the recap of all the reapings. After about 16 others, it's our states turn and I watch as Becca and Daniel panic and cling to me. I see many tears in the crowd at the sight of this, but quickly dismiss it as I feel tears starting to form.

Then Marcus' name is called and he makes his way to the stage. He looks as if he doesn't care, or he knew it would happen. No shock registered on his face at all. I glance over at him, his face still an unreadable mask. I really wish I had the ability to do that.

Only one reaping really interests me. In Michigan, the boy tribute's name is called and he runs up to the stage and starts yelling obscenities at his escort. He turns to the camera and tells the nation to, uh; kiss a not-so-pleasant part of his body. The camera's cut for a split second, but not before a gun shot rings through and sounds of screams come after.

After 2 minutes of blackness, the reaping reappears and the escort babbles on, "Well, looks like our male tribute had a bit of a… accident. We will re-select the male tribute." He pulls a name out of the glass ball and reads, "Evan Newman." A small boy, probably 13, waddles up to the stage, and they cut to the next state.

I look at father, "Something about that boy from Michigan was familiar." I state thoughtfully. I try placing the boys face in a time period or situation, but I can't.

"Yea, that's your cousin. You have only met him twice, once when he was born and once about 5 years ago." Father replies.

_I hope someone kills him so I don't have to_, I think to myself. Shocked that that's the first thought that comes to my mind, I shake my head to clear the thoughts.

"I want him as an ally." I quickly state.

Marcus looks at me and raises his eyebrows. "Thanks for running that by me."

I look at him, slightly annoyed. "Well, he's my cousin. I think I can trust him." In all honesty, I should probably not be so naïve in thinking that just because we're family he won't try and fight me for his survival. But family is important to me and I want to trust him.

"But that means trusting the girl too." He states matter-of-factly.

"I don't care. Once she knows were family, she will trust us, because she will know I'm not making a plan to kill them." I say, clearly annoyed. At least, I hope she will trust us.

He notices my annoyance and raises his hands in a surrendering fashion, "Ok, ok. Just thought you should think before doing anything too rational." He says, not looking at me.

"Annelise, thinking before she acts? No, that doesn't happen, she acts first and thinks later, no matter how bad an idea it is." Father says laughing.

Marcus joins in on his laughter. No matter how true that is, I don't like being made fun of. Whether it's joking or not, it hurts my feelings more than it angers me. I already don't like either of them, and we are only 2 hours into the trip. I don't mask the hurt or anger on my face as I glare at them and their expressions quickly change. Before they have time to say anything, I get up and stomp my way to my room.


	6. Chapter 6

I step into my room, and am amazed at it. The bed is big enough to fit 3 people, and it has a dark purple cover and pillows that match the color of my reaping dress. I have my own personal bathroom, with many sweet-smelling soaps and candles. I get into the shower and turn the water on. I let out a small yelp when the hot water touches my skin.

I reach for the knob and turn it down some. It's like my shower at home, but much roomier and has a set of speakers to play music. I don't want to listen to music right now though; I'm not in the mood. I grab some shampoo that smells like coconut and wash my hair. I wash my body with a body wash that smells like a mix of apples and oranges.

By the time I step out of the shower, I smell like a fruit basket.

There are dryers that are on the ceiling and floor, so I turn them on and stand as they dry my body and hair. I brush out my hair and put it into my regular high ponytail and slip into a simple black t-shirt and jeans. I wonder how long I'll look like the girl in the mirror. First the stylists are going to change me, then the arena. If I make it out, will I ever look like the same girl? Would I even be the same girl? I can't imagine the emotional impact on someone the arena can cause, but I know I'm going to find out soon enough.

I decide now is not the time to think about it as I flop down on top of my bed. Its soft and I sink into it, sighing at how comfortable it is. I even have my own TV in here and decide to pass the time watching it. There isn't really anything good on, so I settle for the food network.

The time passes a lot faster than I thought and I realize its four hours later when I start to feel hungry again. I guess its dinner time already though. I get up and go to the dining room where I hope no one is waiting, but if you haven't guessed I'm not really a lucky person. Marcus and dad are both sitting there, enjoying a delicious looking bowl of soup.

I sit in the seat furthest from both of them as I grab my own bowl, not once looking up from it.

"Look who decided to make an appearance," my father mutters sarcastically. No matter what mood I'm in, my father always acts the same towards me. No compassion whatsoever. Unless I'm bawling my eyes out. But no, when I'm annoyed or angry with him he just gives me more reason to be so. I roll my eyes though he can't see it and stir the soup with the silver spoon.

Marcus clears his throat, "I'm sorry about earlier Annelise, I didn't mean to come across as a jerk." I look up briefly to see his face, trying to find any hint of sarcasm etched across his face, but only find sincerity. He is actually sorry.

"Its fine," I sigh, "I guess I'm just being moody." I don't think that at all, but there isn't any use in using precious energy being mad at him. He gives me a slight smile before his attention turns back to his soup.

"Don't start going soft on me now boy," dad jokes, slapping Marcus' back. Marcus laughs softly and that's the end of any conversation in the room. We all finish up our soup before the main course is served- a baked potato with butter and a salad. I waste no time in eating the potato, it's my favorite food.

Dad and Marcus make small talk over things that don't interest me as a girl, like sports and cars. I just focus on my food which is my number one priority right now.

I walk to my room after dinner is done and hop into bed. Immediately my mind is whisked away into dreamland.

When I wake up in the morning, I make my way to the dining room, where I find Marcus sitting alone. Father must still be sleeping. We are served fried eggs, bacon, toast with jelly, and hash browns. I only eat my eggs and toast, not really hungry. I try to find something to say, but come up short. I never really had good conversational skills. The only things I can think of involve talk of home which I couldn't bear talking about. Then the games, which is no good. I know next to nothing about him so I can't really start a conversation based on that. He seems fine not talking though.

We go to the TV room and watch a special about the Hunger Games. I don't want to but he's in control of the remote.

"I can't believe any of this is happening. It all seems like a bad dream." Marcus says finally. I look at him. Well I guess it's a good start in a conversation.

"I know what you mean. And the odds of us winning are very slim. But I made a promise to my family- and your sister- that I would win." I say. He raises his eyebrows at me.

"My sister?"

I nod. "She came and visited me and told me to protect you and made me promise we would win." He seems surprised, so I assume she came after she visited him.

"Huh, did she say anything else?" He asks.

"Yea, she told me about your home situation. I'm sorry to hear about your father and mother." I reply sincerely. It really is a sad situation, but I can't say I know how he feels.

"Thanks, but don't be sorry. I don't like people feeling sorry for me." I do notice the flicker of sadness in his blue eyes and find a way to quickly change the subject. I hate seeing people upset but something about him makes it ten times worse. I have the strange urge to comfort him but hold it in.

"You don't happen to know when were landing do you?" I ask. Real nice Annelise. That's the best you come up with? Before he has the chance to answer, dad comes in.

"Hey kiddos. Sorry I missed breakfast. Anything interesting happen?" I shake my head.

"We should be landing soon. Tomorrow we will be preparing for the parade." Suddenly, a voice comes over the intercom.

"Attention, tributes. Dinner will not be served on the plane. You will be having your dinner in the white house with the rest of your fellow tributes and the president." And then he signs off.

I can feel the plane descending as we arrive in Washington D.C.. No sooner than when we touch the ground and stop, the door opens and some very intimidating men in black suits come in to get us. They led us from the plane to a car that will take us to the White House. The men are very intimidating and I surprise myself when I scoot closer to Marcus in fear of the men, though they aren't even looking at me. Marcus doesn't seem to mind though. Or maybe he just doesn't notice.

Once we make it in the White House, Marcus and I are taken to separate rooms. The room I was placed in is painted a royal blue color with tan carpets and brown chairs against the wall.

I take a seat and glance around the room until 3 people come into the room. They are quite a sight. One is wearing leopard print skinny jeans and a leopard jacket. Her hair is an un-natural red color and falls to her hips. The other two are a little more simple, but not much. They are wearing matching bright pink capris, and one has a bright yellow shirt and brown hair, in spikes all around her head, while the other has a simple white shirt with a floral design on the front and bright blonde hair that is very curly.

"Hello darling! We are your prep team. My name is Jasmine!" The girl with the leopard print says," And this is Lori," pointing to the girl with the spiky hair. "And this is Heather," Jasmine says, pointing to the blonde. I wave shyly at them.

"It's nice to meet you," I reply in my sweetest tone. "I assume you're here to prepare me for dinner?" They nod like bobble heads.

"Yes we are! You will meet your stylist, Amber, after we finish. She will be dressing you. But don't worry, she is absolutely amazing!" Jasmine says, with a voice so low it almost sounds male.

"Go get changed into this robe so we can begin," says Lori, handing me a white robe. I obey and walk into the bathroom to slip out of my clothes and slip in the robe. The bathroom resembles the one on the plane, only bigger in size. I step out and the team lays me on a table they set up and begin.

They wax every part of my body, which is painful and I would not recommend it to anyone. Then they use tweezers to yank left over hair off my body the wax strips missed. After, they rub some sort of lotion on my skin to soothe it. I feel relief and close my eyes as they begin to do my nails and hair. I must have dozed off, because they gently shake me to do my make-up. They cover my face in powder and put on mascara, eyeliner, eye shadow and blush. When they finish, they all step back and admire their work.

"Oh she looks gorgeous!" Heather says. The other two nod in agreement.

"Annelise, Amber will be here in a few minutes, so sit tight until then." Jasmine says. They step out and I fiddle with my nails. They are painted a dark blue color. _It looks like sapphires._ I think. _Oh shoot! I left Kaitlynn's necklace on the plane_! I start to panic a little, until someone- who I assume is Amber- walks in. She is holding the necklace in her hand and I let out a breath of relief.

"Forgot something?" she smiles, tossing the necklace to me. I snatch it from the air and inspect it, making sure it's not damaged or anything.

"Thank you, I thought I had lost it!" I say. Amber looks more normal than my prep team. She is wearing a black leather jacket that stops just at her rib cage. Under it she has a tight white tank top and black pants. Her face is relatively clear of makeup, except for a deep red lipstick and mascara. Her red hair is short, stopping right above her shoulders.

"Well Annelise, I brought you a beautiful dress to wear tonight." She pulls it out of the bag she is carrying. It is a beautiful blue that matches my nails and necklace, strapless and flows to the floor and is made with a material I don't know the name of, but whatever it is reflects light like the iridescent surface of the gem it's made to resemble. Never in my life have I worn something so fancy or beautiful.

She slips it on over my head and has me stand in front of a mirror. With my hair curled and pulled into a low side ponytail over my right shoulder, my prep teams' impeccable make-up skills, and my brown eyes that seem to stand out with the color, I look absolutely stunning. Just like the precious gem around my neck. Beautiful, breathtaking even.

"This is…" I'm at a loss for words to describe it. "I love it. How did you know I was wearing a sapphire necklace?"

"I saw it when they filmed you boarding the plane." She says. "The color really brings out your eyes." A smile creeps up on my lips; that's what I thought too.

"Thanks. My best friend gave it to me. She wants me to wear it in the arena." I cringe slightly at that.

Amber nods and fixes the dress on me and has me twirl in it. I step into the shoes that match the dress and have about a 3 inch heel. It takes some time and some wobbling around to get used to it, but I get the hang of it.

"Perfect. Looks like it's time for dinner." Amber says.


	7. Chapter 7

I step into the hallway as Marcus comes out with his stylist. He is in a black tuxedo with a vest and bow-tie that matches my dress perfectly.

"You look great." He says to me. I blush a little and thank him.

"You don't look too bad yourself." I reply.

"Ok, they want all the tributes to link arms with their fellow tribute." Amber says, pushing us together. I slid my arm through Marcus' and we walk down the hallway. I feel slightly awkward linking arms with him, but we are partners, allies, friends, whatever you want to call us. I need to get past it. I don't want to get too attached though, because he could be ripped away any second in that arena. I won't let that happen, but it's still a possibility.

We are lined up with the other 98 tributes in order by state alphabetically. We are going to be the 17th pair of tributes to enter.

I look around at all my opponents. All the guys are wearing tuxedos with a vest and bow-tie that match their partner's dress, like Marcus and I, so it makes me feel better that we aren't the only matching pair. Some of the others are very intimidating. I am probably one of the smallest female tributes in my age group, while Marcus is probably one of the more muscular and taller male tributes. One looks like he's on steroids or something, because he is overly bulky for someone his age, which I can only guess is eighteen. I make a mental note to see what he is capable of in training.

The announcer begins calling off the states and tribute names. I don't pay much attention to the names being called, I mostly examine the people. Marcus starts to pull me and that's when I realized we were called. We descend the spiral stair case into a massive room.

The room itself is bigger than my entire house, with cameras dotted around at different spots in the room. A spotlight follows us and I give a winning smile, despite my nervousness of being put on the spot. Marcus is waving with his free hand and has a dazzling smile on his face, and it makes me feel better because I'm sure everyone will be paying more attention to him than me. Heck, even I'm paying more attention to him.

This is the time to start winning sponsors, I think. Of course they will go for the more charming and good-looking tributes. I push back all the butterflies and wave also. As we reach the bottom of the stairs, they call the next state and we are directed to a long rectangular table in the center of the room.

Marcus and I are seated next to each other and we sit and watch as the rest of the tributes file in. Evan is so tiny next to his fellow tribute, who looks to be about 18. I giggle a little at the sight of them.

After the last state is announced, we stand and face the flag with our right hand over our hearts' as the national anthem blares through the room. I can't help but think how ironic the anthem is now. The anthem ends and we all sit down as they announce President Stone.

He enters the room and a round of applause bursts out. All the tributes hesitate a little, seeing as he is the man sending us to our possible deaths. He is a short, plump man with hair that is a reddish color and skin that is almost ghostly. He takes a seat at the end of the table on a chair that looks like a throne, golden and polished to shine brightly.

"Welcome, welcome tributes of America! So glad you decided to join us for this feast," he says. Yea, as if we have a choice. A bell dings and waiters pour out of the kitchen to take our orders.

"Keep it healthy," Marcus reminds me. I nod and order a salad with grilled chicken and a glass of water. Marcus orders the same thing.

All the tributes seem to be examining one another, so I decide to as well. I catch Evan's eye and give him a small wave. I can see recognition cross his eyes at the sight of me, but he gives me an unsure wave then continues examining the others. Most don't look like much competition, but a few stand out for different reasons.

One boy and girl pair; from Florida I think, are both 18 and clearly have been training. One girl, only 12, from Alaska could pass as 8. She is very small and looks terrified, jumping at the smallest of noises. My protective instincts tell me to go over there and cradle her in my arms, but I can't be sure if it's an act or not. Another thing I will have to get over if I'm going to make it, my motherly instincts.

As our meals arrive, everyone digs in as the president tells a few stories. I don't pay attention, but I laugh when I hear everyone else laughing. I don't want to look in his direction though, his appearance and aura is comparable to a ghost. Not a nice ghost like Casper either. He just gives me chills.

Marcus has been busy talking to other tributes, probably looking for potential allies. I sit quietly and listen to him, until he tries pulling me into the conversation going on between him and the tributes from across the table. I just let him continue talking though adding my input every now and then. He is much better at this than I am.

When everyone finishes their food, a giant cake is placed in the middle of the table. It has about 12 tiers and is covered in a smooth white icing and decorated in icing vines and chocolate flowers. Marcus' warning to eat healthy slips my mind when I get a good look at the cake, even more so when a waiter cuts into the cake and reveals the red cake under the icing. Red-velvet cake. My favorite.

I grab my slice and gorge myself in chocolate flowers and red cake, but slow down when I remember I'm on camera. This is amazing so its harder than it should be to keep my self control.

"You have a little something on your cheek," Marcus says. He grabs a napkin and wipes the icing off my cheek. This causes me to stupidly blush. He notices and lets out a small laugh. "There you go," he says.

"Thank you," I reply. He finishes his cake and we make small-talk until it's time to be dismissed. It's getting easier to talk to him and I'm more comfortable around him the more time we spend together.

We all line back up and before we ascend the stairs, President Stone shakes each of our hands, wishing us luck. When he makes it to me, and grabs my hand I thank him and shake his hand. I look directly into his eyes, which I find was a mistake. It's almost as if he is laughing, thinking of how we could possibly die. I drop my hand and look away, clinging to Marcus' side without a second thought.

The sight of President Stone, his touch, his eyes fills me with hatred and anger, and admittedly fear. He is too powerful to not be feared. If I get on his bad side he could have any record that I ever existed wiped away. I try and calm myself, knowing I'm being filmed right now.

We walk up the stairs, and I retire to my room after saying a goodnight to Marcus. I slip out of the dress, hanging it carefully in the bag Amber left, and change into a silk night gown. I wrap myself in the warm blankets, and fall into a sleep filled with nightmares.


	8. Chapter 8

I wake up after the horrible nightmare is over. I take a quick shower, not caring what assorted smells of soap I use. I can't help but feeling slightly disturbed by the dream, and I know its going to put me in a bad mood today. Basically, in the dream, all I could see was President Stone's haunting appearance.

When I'm out, my prep team is patiently waiting, babbling on about the latest fashion trends. They greet me with a hug and try starting conversations with me. I'm not in the mood to talk after my nightmare, so they leave me alone and chat amongst themselves as they fix my hair, nails and make-up.

Today the tributes will be in the parade around D.C.. Amber will be here to prepare me for the parade after my prep team is finished. I wonder what she has in store. After last night's amazing gown, I can only imagine this one will be twice as amazing.

I only hope that my prep team can make me look stunning, along with Amber's design that I'm eager to see. This is the beginning, where we need to start making good impressions and winning sponsors. Sure, last night helped, but this is a huge event and potential sponsors are going to be keeping a close eye out for tributes to sponsor. I'm going to have to snap out of my mood, or at least put on a false front.

They curl my hair and pin half of it up. My face is covered in a powder that matches my skin tone exactly, so it covers flaws and evens my skin tone- or at least that what Jasmine said it does. I have a white eye shadow on and mascara. My eyelashes are short; so many coats are applied to make them long and full. A light pink blush covers my cheeks, and my lips are left alone, except for some gloss.

My prep team all compliment my bone structure and hair in an attempt to cheer me up. Not that I care about that stuff, but if they care enough to try to make me feel better, I guess I can pretend for a while. I smile and thank them, throwing out praise on there skills.

Amber walks in as they are putting the finishing touches on my face.

"Good job ladies, you can go now."

They obey and walk out of the room. I watch carefully as Amber hangs up the bag with my dress, excited to see what I will have the honor of wearing today. She pulls out a dress and holds it up, and I am immediately astonished at its beauty.

It is a long white dress with sapphires dotting the skirt, like stars in a white sky. The strap goes around the back of my neck, which is good because I didn't like the strapless part of my dress last night. I put it on over my head and fixate it on my body. Amber made it to fit my body and curves perfectly without it being suffocating. I take the time to walk around in it, moving the skirt to see how the gems look. No matter which way I turn, the gems spark brilliantly.

I thought it would be heavy with all the gems on it, but it's surprisingly light. Amber places a tiara on the top of my head. It's gold and has sapphires on it as well, so I assume she made it to match my necklace. I look and feel like a princess. I step into my shoes, which thankfully are flat. They are just simple white slippers.

"So are you nervous?" Amber asks me. I'm too busy admiring my attire, and it takes me a second to realize she is talking to me.

"I was, but now I look absolutely beautiful! I see you are having fun with sapphire," I say.

"Yes, they are very beautiful gems, and they suit you well," she says with a smile. I wonder briefly if Marcus will be wearing something similar.

Amber and I talk for a while about where we are from, our family, and tell each other stories. We avoid talking about the games though. I decide that I like Amber, and she seems as much against the games as I am. My father walks into the room mid-discussion of Amber's retelling of her and her sister's homemade fashion show.

"Well let's have a look at you, darling," he says. I stand up and twirl for him. "You look gorgeous. Now show me that winning smile." I put on my best smile.

"If you keep that up, you're going to have sponsors fighting each other to send you gifts."

I giggle and say, "I just hope my mentor lets them go through. The guy is a little tough to work with." He laughs.

"Keep it up and he just might not send you anything," he says just as sarcastically. Even Amber laughs at us, and I introduce her to my dad. After casual gestures are exchanged, he informs us it's time for the parade.

They walk with me out of the room and we meet Marcus with his stylist, Jones. I was right, he is matching me. His suit jacket and pants are sapphire blue with a white shirt and tie. He has a crown on his head that matches mine. He looks equally amazing, if not, better. We get on the elevator that is empty of other tributes- thankfully- and dad presses a button to take us down below the White House.

We are taken to a massive garage where 50 chariots await. All are pulled by two magnificent white horses. Marcus steps up into ours as I'm admiring our horses, and he grabs onto my hand to help me up. I have to hold up my dress so I won't step on the skirt and ruin it.

"You look amazing. Your stylist has magic fingers," he says, taking in my appearance. I'm blushing again, which is stupid of course. I just don't know how to react to compliments.

"Thanks. You look handsome in your suit," I reply. We sit down and he lets go of my hand, but I grab on to his wrist.

"If I start to fall, grab me. I don't like having attention drawn to myself," I say.

"Of course, wouldn't let my team-mate get injured on my watch." He holds my hand again and I smile at him. He smiles back, and we both turn forward as trumpets begin to play, gaining the attention of the crowd who start cheering. I take a deep breath and prepare myself for the crowd. Just by the volume of their cheers, I know there are many people.

The horses start to take off one-by-one as the crowd comes into view. Thousands of people line the streets, watching the parade. My nerves act up again and the butterflies erupt in my stomach. I unconsciously squeeze Marcus' hand tighter.

When we pull out into the sunlight, I see the crowd's reaction to my dress. The sapphires shine brightly in the light, sending rays of blue in all directions.


	9. Chapter 9

Loud cheers emanate from all around us as they take in our appearance. My bad mood seems to have evaporated and I don't have to fake a smile. In the back of my mind, I'm reminded that these same people will soon be cheering on the death of innocent teens, but I couldn't bring myself to care in the moment.

My partner and I look stunning, we have the crowd. Sponsors are lining up for sure, I would put money on it.

I wave at the crowd, acknowledging them, and Marcus does too. People act as if we we're actual celebrities, fawning over us, trying to catch our attention. It's all overwhelming, but at the same time empowering.

"Hug! Hug!" someone chants from the crowd, but I barely make it out over the roar of the others. Soon more people join in and I can understand it better. Hug? Hug what? Myself? At first, I'm confused at what they're asking before I realize what they want. _They want me to hug Marcus? _I think to myself. I glance over at him, and he just shrugs. Guess so.

So I give in to the crowd's strange whims and hug Marcus. He does too, and the crowd goes wild. We split apart, waving at the crowd again as some cheer our names.

"I wonder why they wanted us to do that," I say to Marcus. I have to shout so he can hear me over the crowd. He just shrugs again.

"Guess they wanted more than smiles and waving," he shouts back. I nod and throw a kiss into the crowd, completely caught up in the moment. I look ahead to see how much further we have to go, and I'm greeted by the harsh glares of other tributes. Intimidated, I shrink back into my seat and reclaim my hold on Marcus' hand.

I suppose its jealousy. For one, most of their costumes are plain and simple, one color with no embellishments. Their stylists' didn't get as creative as ours did. Plus we have a good amount of the crowd's attention. If I was in their position, I would probably be doing the same thing.

We round the final corner, and the White House comes into view. We're dropped off at the front gate, where we will walk the short distant to the main doors. I link arms with Marcus, and we follow the flow of tributes to the front door, waving to the crowd before they disappear as we enter the building.

As soon as the last of the tributes come in, they shut the massive doors behind us and I let out a sigh. The small rush of adrenalin I got works its way out of my blood, and now I just feel tired.

All the tributes are rounded up and taken to separate elevators to our floors. Our floor is for states K-M, and we enter the elevator with the other 20 tributes staying on our floor. My cousin, Evan, is in the elevator with me and I figure now is as good a time as any to talk to him. I squeeze past the others in the tightly packed elevator and make my way to Evan where I tap his shoulder lightly. He turns to me slowly and I smile sweetly.

"Hey, Evan. Do you remember me?" I ask. He thinks for a second, studying my face before he smiles slightly.

"Yea, you're my cousin, right?" I nod.

"Yes. I didn't know if you remembered me. We haven't seen each other in five years."

He opens his mouth to say something, when an older girl steps by him. She steps in front of Evan slightly, unsure of me. Despite the fact that she thinks I could possibly be a threat, I smile since she is stepping in to defend my cousin.

"Hi, is there a problem here?" she asks. Her tone isn't rude, so I make sure I'm polite.

"No, not at all. I was just asking Evan if he remembered me. We're cousins. She looks back at Evan for conformation, and he nods. I feel a hand on my shoulder and I turn around to face Marcus. He gives me a questioning look and I just smile back.

"Oh, ok. Well I'm Kennedie," she says, extending her hand out to me. I shake her hand and look at all the other tributes, watching as if something was going to happen.

"I'm Annelise, and this is my partner Marcus. Marcus, this is Kennedie and Evan." He nods at them, and they nod back. A ding signals we've reached our floor, and the door slides open.

"See you around," I say, waving to them.

"See you," they reply back. We all depart ways and head to our respective rooms.

"Well we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow," Marcus says. I nod in agreement. Tomorrow is the first day of training.

"Yes we do. Hey, do you want to join my dad and me for dinner? We're just going to eat in my room," I ask.

"Sure." We walk in the door where my dad is already waiting, watching the live commentary of the parade.

"Hey kiddos," he says when he notices our entrance.

"Hi dad," I say at the same time that Marcus says "Hi, Mr. Stague." We all take a seat around one of the tables in the room and dad grabs the phone, ordering our dinner for us. I'm sure he's making sure that we eat healthy since he didn't allow us to choose.

Not too long after he hangs up, someone knocks on the door and a waiter enters with a cart carrying our dinner. We thank him and begin dining on our meal. Just like all the food I've had on this trip, it's delicious.

"So, here is the one thing I have to say about tomorrow. Save your best skills for your private training, so the others don't know what you're capable of. Go to stations you could use more practice on, and find some allies," father says after we finished our food. He's talking about strategy for tomorrow.

"So no swords, guns, or knives?" I ask. He nods.

"And since you both are good at edible plants, avoid that too."

"Ok, sounds like a plan." Marcus says.

"Good. Now get some rest, It's going to be a tough day ahead," father says, getting up from the table and placing his used napkin on his plate. "Goodnight," he adds, heading towards the door. He stops for a second and turns slightly to look back.

"Don't get any ideas boy, lets go," dad says sarcastically to Marcus, who remained seated. We both laugh and Marcus gets up to follow my dad to the door.

"Goodnight darling," dad says once again.

"See you tomorrow, Sapphire," Marcus says.

"Sapphire? New nickname?" I ask, smiling. He winks at me before shutting the door. Sapphire. I like it. I'm sure Kaitlynn will get a kick out of it, since I was so reluctant to take the necklace in the first place. That is, if I ever get the chance to tell her.

Well, big day tomorrow. I'm going to need plenty of sleep. I put the plates in this trash disposal in the wall and change into some comfy clothes to sleep in. I fall onto the bed, and I'm almost immediately asleep.


	10. Chapter 10

In the morning, I'm woken by someone shaking me. I turn over groggily and see Marcus standing over me, looking too energized for the morning. I make a mental note that he is most likely a morning person while I on the other hand am not.

"Good morning, Sapphire. We have a tough few days ahead. Take a shower and meet me and your father for breakfast in my room."

I nod my head, my eyes still halfway closed.

"Five more minutes," I grumble.

"Four."

"Fine." I turn over and bury my face in my pillow, trying to fall back asleep, but I couldn't because I could still feel Marcus' presence next to me, watching me. "Are you really going to stand there for four minutes?" I ask.

"Yes."

I sigh and throw the cover off of me, pulling my head up from the comfy pillow. "I'm up! Happy now?"

I was definitely not a morning person, and after the little amount of sleep I had been getting lately, I was grumpy that I had been woken up after a finally peaceful sleep. However, I found it hard to be mad at him for some reason.

"Ecstatic. Now, hurry up with that shower," he says. I roll my eyes and leave him to go to the bathroom where I take a quick shower.

Afterwards, I put on the required outfit for all tributes for training. It is a purple fitted shirt with our state abbreviation on the left sleeve. The pants are a tan color and the shoes are lightweight and black. I put them on and walk to Marcus' room.

I don't bother knocking before open the door. He and father are laughing about something, stopping when they see me coming in. I ignore it and sit down in a chair across from father, not uttering a word.

I wasn't up for talking at the moment, still groggy from sleep. Instead of waking me up, showers seem to have the opposite affect on me, and I felt more tired than before.

Our breakfast is already here. Scrambled eggs, toast, fruit and a glass of milk. I finish off the scrambled eggs in less than a minute. While I'm starting on the toast, my father chuckles.

"Slow down there, darling. You'll make yourself sick."

"Sorry, but they taste really good." I say. Really, I was considering hiring a personal chef- you know, if I got past the next few weeks.

After we all finish our food and dispose of the dishes, we decide to relax before training starts at noon. It's 10 o'clock, so we have time to kill. Breakfast seemed to have woken me up some, so I was more involved in the conversation.

We all take turns sharing stories. However, being my mentor does not stop father from telling embarrassing stories about me.

"Dad, can you skip the stories about me, please?" I beg, trying to keep my embarrassment hidden. That does not stop me from blushing though. I would have been fine had he not been going into great detail about some of the more embarrassing stories of my life.

"Aw, afraid I'll embarrass you in front of your crush?" he teases.

"Dad!" I yell. Nope, even faced with life or death, he still acts like the same dad every teenage girl has to deal with. And of course, this is the worst time to think about crushes. Yea, Marcus is cute, but that is the least of my worries right now.

"Ok, I'm done," he says, holding his hands up in. Now I know I'm blushing because I can feel my face burning. I hide my face in my hands in hopes that I could conceal my red face. Marcus is just sitting there, unfazed, his face clean of emotions just like on reaping day.

He's probably use to hearing these things.

A moment of silence passes as I finally calm my blazing cheeks. I try to get the ball rolling and change the subject.

I start telling a story about when Kaitlynn and I were eight and we were riding our bikes through the woods. We had been riding for about 20 minutes before we realized we were lost. We walked with our bikes for an hour before father found us. Kaitlynn was scared out of her mind, but I actually enjoyed it.

I had been interested in the whole idea of 'Survivor' at the time and thought it was pretty cool that I could be in a similar situation., Now, however, I was in a similar situation, only ten times worse. The survival part? Check. I just didn't think that I would have to face 98 other teenagers with weapons. Not as cool as I had previously thought.

Marcus tells stories about him and his sister, Jane. Apparently, father cannot think of any stories besides embarrassing ones about me, so he just listens.

I had never seen such a genuine smile come from Marcus until he was talking about Jane. There was no doubt that he loved her deeply- like a big brother should- and that got me thinking about Becca and Daniel.

I missed them terribly, I was sure of that. I knew my dad did too, but he hasn't mentioned them since we got here. Whether it was the fact that he was too preoccupied with keeping Marcus and I alive, or just the simple fact that he didn't want to upset me I wasn't sure.

He had a way with hiding his emotions. Much like Marcus, it was hard to tell what he was feeling most of the time. He was a generally happy man though, so if he was hiding his emotions you knew something was wrong.

It must be hard for our families too. I mean, sure, Marcus and I miss them terribly, but it can't be too great for them either. Constantly worrying whether or not we'll be coming home to them, they have to be a nervous wreck. I chuckle quietly to myself as I think of my mother when she was nervous. She would clean everything, and I mean everything. The floors, the walls, the dishes. Anything she could clean, and she would go over it three times.

Finally, noon came and it was time for us to head down to the basement where training was to be held. We said goodbye to father and met DeAnne in the elevator, who gives us the full report of how well the parade went.

"You two were just absolutely stunning! I got so many calls from sponsors once it was over. Of course, now it's up to your mentor to decide where to go from there," she babbles happily. I turn to Marcus, smiling brightly.

"Here that? We're popular." He chuckles and opens his mouth to say something else before DeAnne cuts him off.

"Yes, now it's your job to seal the deal. Don't mess up during your private training sessions, and we should be all set!"

Don't mess up during your private training sessions? I didn't know whether I should take that as encouragement in its simplest form, or an insult. I looked back at Marcus and he just shrugs. Guess I'll just take it as encouragement.

The elevator opens and Marcus and I step out, DeAnne shouting a "Do well!" before the doors slide closed.

My eyes scan the massive room and all the stations, noting how only about ¼ of the tributes are here so far. Who is here have already formed into small groups, spread out across the room as they avoid one another. Marcus and I are the odd ones out, standing at the edge of the room alone.

I spot Evan and Kennedie not too far away, alone as well. Evan meets my eye and waves me over. I tap Marcus' shoulder, drawing his attention from whatever he was examining. I point over to Evan and he nods, following me as we make our way over.

"Hi guys," I say. They both smile, Kennedie's smile seeming more than friendly when she looks at Marcus. We all chat for a bit, Kennedie's charm factor going up tenfold as she talk, more to Marcus than Evan and I. I found it slightly annoying that she was flirting in this kind of situation, but I figured a distracted opponent was an easier opponent.

Yes, I know It's a back-stabbing move to think about someone like that as you're trying to befriend them, but this is the Hunger Games we're talking about. Right and wrong don't exist here, and any morals I once had are going to have to be put aside if they're going to get in the way of my survival.

All the tributes have finally arrived and formed into groups, some choosing to keep to themselves. A woman by the name of Margie explains the rules of training to us, which are simple enough. No fighting with other tributes, no taking weapons from the premises, and no horseplay.

Heeding my father's advice, I go to a station that I could use improvement on, leaving whoever wants to follow me to do so. Evan comes with me to the camouflage station, while Marcus goes to the fire-crafting station, Kennedie of course following him.

"Shouldn't you say something to Kennedie?" Evan asks me half way through me painting- or attempting to paint- my hand into a berry bush. He was on the other side of the bush, doing the same thing I was.

"About what?" I was distracted with trying to get the shadows just right, but I was failing miserably.

"She isn't very paying much attention to the training. She's a little distracted…" he trails off, pointing over to the station Marcus and her are at. I look over to see her a little too close to him as he tries and starts a fire, and I can't help but giggle at the expression on his face.

"It's not my job to keep her mind on track," I shrug.

"Aren't girls supposed to get jealous over that kind of stuff?" he asks. I couldn't help it, I burst out laughing. Loudly, I might add. Everyone withing a twenty foot radius gave me strange looks, including Marcus and Kennedie.

"What's there to be jealous of?" I chuckle.

"I thought girls got jealous over boys and stuff..." I couldn't help but find it adorable how clueless he was acting.

"That's if they have a crush on the boy."

"Don't you like Marcus?" he asks curiously.

"As an ally, yes. Friend, yes. Nothing more. Wrong time and place to think of crushes my friend," I say.

"Ok..." He sounds unconvinced, but he drops the subject. I shake my head at his disbelief. Like I said, this wasn't any time to be thinking about schoolgirl crushes. I was focused on one thing and one thing only- survival. But right now, my focus was also on painting these stupid berries on my hand.

I go back to my hand, sighing in frustration when I manage to smudge the berries. I peek over the bush to see Evan has successfully managed to paint his entire arm into the bush. It isn't perfect, but it's much better than I have done.

Finally I cave in and have the instructor help me. By the time he's done explaining it to me, and helping me try it out again, I have gotten the shadows perfectly. I thank him and Evan and I wash our arms off, deciding to move on to knot-tying. Soon after, Kennedie and Marcus join us once again.

"So, what was so funny?" Marcus asks casually, tying a sailors knot on a length of rope.

"Oh nothing," I reply, not exactly willing to tell him what was said. Though I didn't know why, it was somehow an embarrassing conversation that I wished to not repeat. He gives me a curious look, which I return with a smile to show it was nothing. He smirks at my over-exagerated smile, and returns his attention to his knot. We spend the rest of the day there tying and untying knots, and leave to our respective rooms once training for the day is over.


	11. Chapter 11

The next day of training, we decide to stay together and work on skills we are all lacking. First, we head over to basket weaving.

Evan and I make three baskets to store food and one so tightly woven it can hold water. Marcus and Kennedie are having a little trouble, so we help them out. In no time, we have about 15 baskets made, so we move on to hand-to-hand combat. I'm already pretty good at it, but I could brush up on my skills. Kennedie and I practice with each other.

She isn't as strong as she looks, because I take her down easily. She brushes it off, which I did as well. The real test will be in the arena anyways.

Marcus and Evan go against each other. Some struggling occurs, until eventually Evan takes Marcus down. This seems to make Evan really happy, he is smiling and cheering, which in turn makes me smile happily. It was like watching a kid get the toy they wanted most on Christmas, and it made me happy to see him like that.

When I look over at Marcus, I find he was already looking at me and smiling.

"The boy has some pretty good skills," he says, winking to let me know that he let him win. This brings out a giggle from me. Evan comes running over and gives Kennedie and I high fives.

"Maybe next time buddy," Evan says, patting Marcus on the back, making both Kennedie and I laugh.

"Not likely. He's an easy match," I joke.

"Oh really?" Marcus cuts in, while Evan and Kennedie start laughing yet again.

"Really," I say confidently and challenging.

"Let's just see then." He grabs my hand and pulls me up to the mat. The instructor looks between us, seeing if we were going to do this. We both nodded and then I turned to look at Marcus, giving him a cocky smirk.

"Don't go too easy on me," I say. He returns my cocky smirk with an equally cocky one.

"Wouldn't dream of it." The instructor blows the whistle, and we start.

We wrestle for about 9 minutes, almost evenly matched, before he gets me pinned down. His hands pin my shoulders to the ground and puts his face directly above mine, only mere inches away. My heart beat accelerated and I wasn't sure if it was due to the exercise or something else.

"C'mon Sapphire, you can do better than that," he teases. His eyes move from mine to another part of my face, and I take the opportunity to gain the upper hand. I push him off me and pin him down.

"You mean, like that?" I ask, almost too innocently. He laughs, looking me directly in the eye. Both of our chests were rising and falling quickly due to the match that had just ensued, and while all that was happening, something clicked inside of me. It was something of a new realization, but I wasn't sure what exactly that was. Almost like some sense of security.

A feeling that the boy I had pinned down was someone I could trust whole-heartedly. That we were about to risk our lives for each other without a second thought. I don't know why it just happened, nor do I know where it came from but it gave me more comfort than months of training could.

"1, 2, 3!" the instructor calls out, breaking me away from my thoughts.

"I win," I say, standing up and offering a hand to him, desperately trying to hide my flustered face.

"I lied. I went easy on you," he says.

"Riiight," I giggle, rolling my eyes. We join the by-standing Evan and Kennedie, who were both looking at us in amusement.

"Wow, you are too easy Marcus," Evan says.

"Let's just move on," Marcus mutters.

After a brief laugh and poking fun at him, we go to the track to run a few laps. On our way there, I spot two tributes standing by themselves in a corner. They both look to be 12. I hadn't seen them around, and neither of them looked like they had been doing anything yet.

"Hey, I'll catch up to you guys in a minute," I say to the other three.

"Is something wrong?" Kennedie asks.

"No, nothing's wrong. I'll be over in a sec," I reassure them. I make my way over to the pair in the corner, stopping a few feet away. They both back up when I approach them. They both seem so shy and scared, almost like small puppies.

"Hi, my name is Annelise. What are your names?" I ask, using my soothing voice. They both stare at me uncertainly.

"I'm Max." The boy says. He has green eyes with medium brown hair, and he's tall or his age. The girl standing next to him has dirty blonde hair with blue eyes and freckles that dot her nose and cheeks. She looks down at the ground, her hands behind her back as her shoes kick some invisible object on the ground.

"I… I'm Sarah," she says barely above a whisper.

"Well, Max, Sarah, what are you guys doing over here? Me and my friends are going to run some laps. Do you want to join us?" I ask them.

They look at each other uncertainly before Max speaks up. "Sure."

We walk to where Marcus, Kennedie and Evan are waiting patiently.

"Guys, this is Max and Sarah. They're going to run with us."

Everyone greets them and we go to the starting line. I get in position, ready to sprint. On my left is Sarah, and to my right is Kennedie. I give Sarah a reassuring smile as she gets into position. Her eyes flit away as soon as they meet mine, but she gives me a tiny smile.

The trainer blows a whistle and we all take off instantly. Sarah Marcus and I are all neck and neck with Evan and Max close behind, Kennedie only a few feet behind them. The track is a half of a mile, and we do two complete circuits.

We finish running our two laps and I finish first. Marcus claims 2nd place, with Sarah 3rd, Max 4th, Kennedie 5th, and Evan last. By the time we finish, training for today is over.

I invite everyone to have dinner in my room, and they all join, even Max and Sarah. We all decide to get to know each other better. Even thought we all know this is probably a bad idea, no one says it. However, it could also be good as well. Trusts form when you get to know someone.

It turns out Max and Sarah are from South Carolina. They are actually stepbrother and sister. Sarah doesn't do much talking, she remains quiet as she stares down at her hands, twiddling her fingers in her lap. I ask them about their skills.

"If I do say so myself, I'm good with a spear and camouflaging," Max states proudly.

"What about you?" I ask Sarah.

"Oh… I'm not really good at anything," she says quietly, never looking up from her hands.

"Are you kidding?" Max says. "Sarah is the best at throwing knives that I have ever seen." She is still looking down, but a sheepish smile crosses her lips.

In my mind, I couldn't seem to find the justice in sending such a quaint and small girl into the arena. Sending anyone in there is unjust, but at least most of us could handle it well enough. Her and Max, however, were too young to be handling this. Then again, looks could be deceiving. Maybe she is truly the stronger one out of all of us. Only the arena would be able to prove that.

My thoughts bring me down, and I fall into a silence as I listen to everyone else chatting as if they have forgotten why we were here. The conversations go on around me and I listen, but not really. It goes in one ear and out the other.

I feel someone's hand on my shoulder, and I turn my head to see Marcus looking at me with a concerned expression. I give him a reassuring smile, which I find hard to force on my face. It probably looked more like a grimace.

"Are you feeling ok?" he asks.

"Yea, just thinking…"

"About?"

"Nothing important."

"Annelise…"

"Seriously, It's nothing," I reassure, trying harder to smile. There was no need bringing anyone else down with me. He opens his mouth to say something, when Kennedie cuts in.

"Marcus, tell us more about your sister," she says sweetly. He gives me one last look before going into details. I zone out as he talks since I already know all this anyways. When he finishes and everyone gets up to leave, we say our goodbyes to each other and I hold the door open for them. I stop Marcus before he can leave.

"Hey, I want those 4 as our allies. Is that ok with you?" I say. He thinks over it for a second.

"So you want two 12 year olds, your cousin and Kennedie?"

I nod my head. "Just wanted to run it by you first," I say.

"So, even if I say no, you are still going to take them as allies?" he asks.

I raise one eyebrow. "Yea, pretty much." I say. He laughs.

"I figured that much."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I ask, trying to be serious, but I'm smiling so it's not too convincing. When it hits me that I was actually smiling and it wasn't being forced, I have to blink a couple of times. It always takes me a while to pick my mood up when I was down, but here he was making no effort and already brightening my mood. How he made me smile so easily was a mystery. However, I wasn't going to complain about it, I actually kind of liked it.

"You are pretty stubborn, Sapphire." I pout and playfully punch his arm. He smirks, flicking my nose. "I like them too. I guess we can tell your father about our allies."

I nod my head. "Well, I will see you in the morning," I say.

He nods back "Goodnight." He walks out and I watch him walk back down the hall and into his own room. When I shut the door, I lean against it, a goofy grin finding its home on my lips. The sense of security I had found with Marcus when we were wrestling has me feeling slightly too eccentric for my situation, but I was enjoying the feeling.

He grin stays on as I make my way to the bed, wrap myself in my blankets, and eventually fall asleep, a replay of today's events playing, the good surprisingly outweighing the bad.


End file.
